


$1.99 Reindeer Wrapping Paper

by ablondeweasley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:15:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ablondeweasley/pseuds/ablondeweasley
Summary: Klance fic based on the prompt "I'm your last customer on Christmas Eve because it's only now I've realized I have no wrapping paper." Basically, how Lance exchanged numbers with the hottest guy in the world at 1 AM on (technically) Christmas morning.And I have NO FRICKIN' IDEA WHY I'M WRITING A CHRISTMAS FIC IN MAY, OKAY? I'M SORRY.





	$1.99 Reindeer Wrapping Paper

Lance had fucked up.  
Big time.  
Like, on a scale of that time he ate three big macs and then went dirt-bike racing, ending up puking on a cute girl’s shoes, to nearly accidentally stealing an engagement ring, this was far, far worse.  
Lance was out of wrapping paper, and it was currently 1:00 AM on Christmas Eve.  
Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating a tiny bit, but this was still terrible. Horrible. The greatest tragedy since the Titanic.  
Or possibly even Romeo and Juliet.  
(Maybe he was exaggerating a bit there too, but he couldn’t help it.)  
All of his nieces and nephews and sisters and brothers and little cousins and big cousins and grandmas and grandpas and mom and dad we counting on him to play the role of Santa tHis year. And there was no way in hell the kids would wake up on Christmas morning and find only pine needles underneath the Christmas tree!  
That’s why Lance found himself pulling up in front of the nearest Lucky’s at 1:15 in the morning.  
***  
The loose gravel underneath his tires crackled as Lance pulled up in front of Lucky’s. He was surprised that the lights from the store windows and doorway were as bright as ever, if not brighter, because who the hell would be working at 1:15 AM on Christmas Eve?  
But then again, as bad as he might feel for the employee(s) inside, thank god they were there.  
***  
The tiny bell tinkled as Lance walked in to find the most beautiful man alive nearly-asleep behind the counter.  
Like, seriously.  
His face was pale, all bold lines and sharp edges with cheekbones and a jaw that could cut glass, accentuated with thick, dark, groomed eyebrows and long dark lashes that cast shadows on his cheekbones. The man’s eyes were a violet-grey, and were… captivating, even though they were nearly bloodshot from exhaustion and probably the four empty Starbucks cups teetering at stress-inducing angles around him. His head was pillowed in his arms, his dark messy and shiny-and was that a fucking mullet? No way.  
Lance had never though the day would come when he found a mullet attractive.  
The young man seemed to stir as Lance came in, his bleary gaze widening in mild surprise at Lance. Lance felt a little nervous and self conscious at the attention, and then he realized it was probably because he was at Lucky’s at fucking now 1:20 AM on Christmas Eve.  
“Do you, uh, have some wrapping paper?” Lance gestured wildly at the 8 aisles to their left.  
The young man massaged the bridge of his nose, and Lance felt a snatch of irritation, until he remembered that he was at Lucky’s at fucking now 1:20 AM on Christmas Eve.  
“Aisle, uh, six, I think.” The man said, gesturing like Lance except in a far more reserved, sexy kind of way-  
What the fuck, Lance?  
“Cool,” Lance told him, with awkward finger guns.  
Again Lance, what the fuck?  
Lance meandered over to aisle six, past the terrible Christmas decor, and selected some reindeer and missile toes-patterned wrapping paper that was on sale (only $1.99!) He also got himself one of those Starbucks fraps that came in the tiny glass bottles, for good measure.  
***  
When Lance went up to the counter to pay, he noticed that the gorgeous guy’s name was Keith, according to his smile silver name tag. And he also noticed that Keith’s uniform green polo was three buttons undone at his collar—three!—so that it gaped, flashing a patch of pale collarbone whenever Keith reached forward type into the computer, open the register, slide Lance’s card, or scan an item.  
Just get the stuff and get out of here, Lance, he told himself, besides, he’s probably not gay, and also no date-worthy person would take the 1:00 AM shift at Lucky’s on Christmas Eve. But then:  
He has a mullet, so he’s probably gay, Lance, and he probably lives alone and has a tragic backstory. You could fix him-  
Shut it, Lance!  
Lance suddenly realized that Keith was staring at him unexpectedly, holding out the plastic Lucky’s bag with his super important items.  
“Oh, thanks, Keith.”  
But then Keith’s brow wrinkled in confusion, “how did you know my name?”  
Poor guy must be really tired.  
“It’s, uh on your name tag.” Lance said, gesturing to Keith’s fitted chest. (Jesus fuck.)  
“Oh,” Keith flushed in embarrassment, which totally wasn’t end-of-ht-world-adorable, and then promptly knocked over all four of his empty Starbucks cups, dripping coffee dregs all over the counter.  
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, but then flushing again, and apologizing.  
“Oh, it’s totally fine. And let me help you with that.” Lance set down his bag as Keith took out a roll of paper towels from under the counter.  
“It’s fine-“  
“No, I insist.” Lance ripped off a couple of paper towels and began to wipe op the spillage.  
“Thanks, uh-“  
“Lance.”  
Keith looked up from his coffee-soaked paper towel to give him a small, tired smile. “Thanks Lance.”  
And that smile was the reason why the kids woke up the next morning to fine nothing but pine needles under the Christmas Tree.

No, just kidding. 

Lance did somehow manage to finish helping Keith clean up the coffee. He also did somehow manage to completely make Keith uncomfortable in those next 30 seconds that it took to clean up the spill with a ton of awkward questions that just seemed to escape his mouth, completely unwanted.  
“So, what kind of person works the 1:00 AM shift at Lucky’s on Christmas Eve?”  
“Why are you here all alone?”  
“What are you doing to celebrate Christmas?”  
Keith stopped cleaning, suddenly very pale and uncomfortable.  
“I-I’m all alone, so there’s really no reason to celebrate. I’m here because I have nothing better to do.” He said slowly, and then looked shocked that it had come out of his mouth.  
They both flushed slightly, and then apologized at the same time.  
“I really didn’t mean to ask all of those questions-!”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a pathetic loser-“  
Lance was the first to laugh, looking at Keith’s wide-eyed, flushed, beautiful face.  
And then Keith joined in.  
“I’m sorry to here, that Keith. I don’t mean to pry, but where’s your family?” Lance asked, as seriously and kindly as he could.  
Keith grew pale again, looking down at the cash register. “I spent my whole life in the foster system, so I don’t really have a family.”  
Oh, shit.  
“Oh, Keith, I’m so sorry-I didn’t mean to-“  
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I’ve never really told anyone that before, much less a stranger.”  
They both looked down, and suddenly a crazy idea came to Lance as he focused on the reindeer wrapping paper sticking out of hi plastic bag.  
“Hey, my family always does a big celebration dinner, and so many people come that one more wouldn’t make a difference. Wanna come?”  
What the fuck, Lance? you cant invite strangers to your family’s Christmas dinners!  
Keith looked up sharply, his face flushed again. “Uh-“  
“I mean you don’t have to! I get that this whole thing is really weird, I just you looked so sad and lonely and-“  
“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ve never been to a Christmas dinner before.”  
Jesus fuck.  
And that’s how Lance exchanged numbers with the hottest guy in the world at 1 AM on (technically) Christmas morning.  
And even though Lance was exhausted after staying up all night wrapping presents, he couldn’t stop smiling at the reindeer wrapping piling up on the carpet as the kids ripped open present after present.  
Because that wrapping had come from a special someone, and that special someone was coming to Christmas dinner that night.


End file.
